I can’t believe I was just promoted. Me! Lara Cohen’s assistant! I have to calm down

Ineed to look mature, but not old, young, but not childish. I settle on a light gray ribbed skirt and sweater set with velvet ballet flats. I hate it immediately, but have no time to change. Makeup, wig grip, sheitel, rings, kallah bangle… and I’m ready for my meeting with Lara.

I stop at the hallway mirror, bypassing Mike’s dirty bowl and mug on the kitchen table, and flash a huge fake smile. I can do this. I single-handedly met with the CEO of Rockland Residential Facilities and Nursing Homes when he wanted to discuss lobby makeovers and Lara was out on maternity leave three years ago. So why does it feel like I was more confident as a single than I’ve been these past six months? Isn’t that the whole thing — you’re a child as long as you’re single, no matter how old you are, but once you have the ring on your finger, you’re a woman, calm and self-assured?

I need to WhatsApp this very important question to one of my sisters. I choose Mimi — closest in proximity and age — and then dash off to my car, leaving Mike’s dishes behind. I’m about to walk in when my phone pings.

Uh, never got that memo. Calm and self-assured? Cue me crying in Wesley Kosher parking lot because I forgot to get Shabbos cereal and I’m too tired to go back inside.

Ha!

Thinking of the groceries Ma never bought, I quickly type back: Well, I asked Ma for Reese’s Puffs, but she never ended up getting my stuff, so we got no Shabbos cereal either.

Ping. So I’m in good company☹

I turn off my phone after that last text. If there’s one thing Lara hates more than faux distressed decor, it’s a phone interrupting her meetings.